I'll Make It Back To You
by ChildOfNikeTheRunner
Summary: Being a Runner is a dangerous task. When nothing goes wrong, there's just the depressing feel of never really finding anything, but at least I can still go back to Newt in the evening, curl up on the grass next to him and watch the stars, and that alone makes my life worth living. But if something does go wrong...


It was just a normal day in the Maze until we heard the Grievers.

Me and Dan had been running together toward the Glade after getting finished with our own sections. We were only a few miles from our destination when the whirring and clicking of the Grievers started echoing from just a few hundred yards or so behind us. We both froze dead in our tracks for a millisecond, exchanging identically horrified looks. Then we took off running faster than ever, feet pounding the Maze floor, adrenaline coursing through our bodies, giving our weary muscles a new burst of strength.

But no matter how fast we ran, the Grievers - there were at least two of them - seemed to gain us, their horrific moans and clicks and whirrs getting closer by the second.

"We... won't... make it!" Dan breathed from my side, taking a look back. Twenty yards ahead of us, there were two corridors parting from the main passage, and I knew what he meant. We wouldn't make it to the Glade before the Grievers caught us - we would have to split up, try to mislead them. We exchanged one last look, then I bolted to the left while Dan dove the other way. A quick thought crossed my mind, a hope that that hadn't been the last time I ever saw my fellow Runner.

I ran along the corridor, not daring to look back, hoping the Grievers wouldn't be smart enough to also split up. I turned left at the next possibility, keeping up the full pace, listening to the sounds of the Grievers. It seemed like they had indeed split up, but the one after me didn't seem to be gaining me anymore. I turned right this time, then, after just a couple of yards, I turned left again, trying my best to keep track of the turns. I couldn't afford to get lost. It couldn't be more than a few hours till the sun set, at the latest. I_ ha__d_ to make it back before it was too late. I had to see Newt again.

Right, another right, left, right... The sounds of the Griever seemed to actually slacken, sending a stir of hope through the terror that was consuming my mind. I hadn't been a Runner even for a full month, and yet this was already happening to me - every Glader's worst fear. I kept running, spending every ounce of strength there was left in my body to escape while taking random turns, listening to the sounds of the Griever after me, hoping it would just give up already, go back to wherever it came from.

Left, right, left, left again... My heart felt like it would explode out of my chest. My legs burned like never before. My throat felt raw as I tried to gasp in air for my lungs that needed it ever so desperately. Knowing I wouldn't last much longer, I took a few slower steps, listening. It was quiet. Not a single sound from a single Griever.

I stopped, reeled, leaning against the wall next to me for support. My legs shook. I tried to steady my rapid breathing, taking deep, controlled breaths as I leaned against the wall, just wanting to collapse to the ground and never get up again. But I resisted that thought, reminding myself I wasn't safe yet. What if the Griever was just bluffing and would lunge at me at any second? A shudder went down my back.

That's when a loud _boom_ echoed through the maze, making me jump. _No, no, no..._ This couldn't be happening... I checked my watch, panic overwhelming all my senses. It really was happening. The sunset had come faster than I'd realized while running from the Griever. Another _boom_ sounded soon as the Doors slammed shut for the night, trapping me in the Maze.

I collapsed to the ground as my knees failed me, shaking from head to toe. It was all quiet now, the only sound I heard my own, rapid breathing. I told myself to _calm down_, to _shape up_, but the terror was all too much. I buried my head in my arms, tears escaping my shut eyes. This just _couldn't_ be happening. It couldn't all be over this easily. I had been here in the Glade for just a few months, and those few months were all I remembered about my whole life. Shuck, they _were_ my only life. And it maybe would've been a sucky life if hadn't involved a single person called Newt. A person who I loved more than anything, who made my life worth living. And now I had failed him, not making it back before the Doors closed...

I sat there for God knows how long, thinking about Newt, picturing him standing in front of the Doors as they closed, realizing I wouldn't make it. Every time I tried to stop crying, that thought came to my mind, making it impossible to think about anything else. I barely noticed the pain in my body, it was nothing compared to the pain I felt inside.

I sat there for minutes, not being able to get a grip of myself. Then the horrible, horrible sounds started resounding through the night again. The clicks, whirrs, and the nightmarish moans of the Grievers. It seemed like the one that had chased me had found it's companion again, the one that had gone after Dan. Had it caught him? Or had he made it through the Doors in time? He was a much more experienced Runner than me, and I hoped with all my heart that at least _he_ was safe now.

All of a sudden, for no apparent reason, a quick wave of acceptance hit me. Bawling my eyes out on the floor wouldn't do me any good. It wouldn't do _anyone _any good. I could as well just accept the fact that this had happened to me, accept the fact that my odds to survive the night were slim, even nonexistent. I stood up, wiped my tears off, taking a deep breath. If I had nothing to lose, I could as well try something. I was the first and only girl in the Glade. Maybe I could also become the first Glader ever to survive a night in the Maze.

I listened to the Grievers' sounds, determined to hold on to my sudden bravery. They seemed to be still pretty far, but they were coming closer by the second. I could try to run to the opposite direction than where the Grievers were coming from. God, I just wanted to get as far from them as possible, run and never stop, but I had already pushed my body over it's physical limits. Outrunning the Grievers wouldn't be possible, so that option was out. What other choices did I have? I scanned my surroundings, desperate to find a way to escape the closing Grievers.

_The walls... _If I made it to the top, would they find me from there? That seemed like my best option, and I decided to give it a try. I studied the ivy that grew on the walls, finding a spot where it went all the way from the bottom to the top. I yanked one of the vines, testing it's strength. It ripped apart from the wall, but only from the length of a couple of feet - above that, it was still firmly attached to the wall. I decided not to linger with it and started climbing.

I found useful cracks from the wall's surface, using them as footholds while grasping the ivy with my hands, hauling myself up. I didn't look down, just concentrated on my task while listening to the sounds of the closing Grievers. They seemed to be still pretty far, not making any haste, knowing they had the whole night to find me and finish me off. I kept climbing, grasping another vine above me, finding a new footage, hauling myself up, then doing it all over again. The first five or so yards were easy, at ten my legs started to burn again along with my arms. Only the determination of not getting caught kept me going, the thought that I had to see Newt again. Shuck, even the thought that I would maybe never hear a single stupid joke from Minho made me incredibly sad.

Grasp a vine, find a foothold, pull yourself up. Grasp a vine, find a foothold, pull yourself up... God, why did the walls have to be so high? How high _were _they, even? A hundred yards? I hadn't even made it halfway there, and my arms felt like boiled spaghetti, my legs burned, the skin on my palms felt raw, and yet I still kept climbing, refusing to give up. I didn't even know where the determination had come from, but it kept pushing me on, not taking any protests.

I had wanted to become a Runner from the beginning, no matter how many times I was told it was a bad idea, no matter how many times Newt begged me to not to do it, no matter how many times I was doubted because I was a _girl_. Actually the fact that people_ didn't want_ me to become a Runner had made me even more determined to become one, prove them I wasn't any less capable than them just because of my gender. And finally Minho had agreed to test me, and after they saw me run they couldn't question me anymore: I was good. Pretty freaking good, actually. This was just another test. And being good wouldn't be enough this time. I had to do something no one had ever managed to do before. _No biggie._

The top of the wall was coming closer ever so slowly, but I figured I'd made it halfway there already. Fifty yards. _Fifty freaking yards._ Still not daring to look down, I stopped for a moment, listening. The Grievers had come closer, but they were still pretty far. They really weren't in a hurry, thinking that they'd already won. And that was pretty shuckin' creepy.

I clutched the vines, the thought that if I lost my grip I would fall down and die hitting me just now. My arms shook, and I was suddenly terrified of the thought. _Maybe I should rest for a moment,_ I thought, sweat beading my face, my hands slippery as well. Very carefully, I removed my left hand from the vines and wiped it on my pants. Then I did the same with my right hand, grasping the creepers with my left like my life depended on it, which it did.

Ever so carefully, I ripped a loosely hanging vine from my left, tying it around my middle, then threaded the end of it under a few creepers on my right. Holding onto the wall with one hand, I took the end of the creeper that was now secured to the wall, knotting it tightly so that it wouldn't come loose from the other vines. Then, very cautiously, I loosened my grip from the ivy, holding my breath. The vine I'd tied around myself held and I remained hanging from the wall. I let out a relieved breath, then started tying other vines the same way around me, securing me from falling down. Soon I was pretty sure the creepers would hold, and I allowed myself to let go of the wall, giving my muscles a needed break from the climbing.

I hung there for minutes, listening to the sounds of the Grievers - which were still at least a few miles far, closing slowly but surely. However much I hated to just hung there, wasting time, I knew I didn't have a choice. My body needed rest. I cursed myself for drinking all my water back in the daytime when I'd though I would only have a few miles left and I wouldn't need it anymore. _How wrong had I been..._

After a ten minutes' break, I decided I had to start climbing again. I reached for my knife that was attached to my backpack, grasping the handle. Then I placed my feet firmly into the cracks in the stone wall, taking a good grip on the vines in front of me with my left hand. I took a deep breath, promising myself I would make it to the top. I _had _to make it to the top. Then I cut off the vines that tied me to the wall and thrust my knife back into it's case. Then I continued my way toward the top of the stone wall that loomed there against the night sky, fifty yards above me.

The rest of the length was plain torture. The sounds of the oncoming Grievers weren't more than a mile away, possibly even closer. It felt like every muscle in my body was literally on fire. My arms shook, my legs shook, and I was sure that I would lose my grip on the creepers at any minute. I had to stop every once in a while to wipe the sweat off my palms. The only thing that kept me going was the determination to make it to the top. To make it through the night and get back to Newt. He had to think I was dead already. Every time that horrible thought crossed my mind, I felt like I couldn't breathe - like someone had punched me in the stomach, making all the air escape my lungs.

At least it wasn't so hot anymore - that was the only positive thing to think of. I grasped another vine, hauling myself up with my shaking arms. I couldn't loose my grip. I just couldn't. It was now only ten yards or so to the top. I was _so_ close. I had almost made it - I'd climbed ninety yards, _ninety freaking yards. _I couldn't fail_ now._

Five yards.

Three.

Two.

I closed my eyes, focusing all my remaining strength for the last effort. I grasped the ivy so hard my fingers hurt._ I wouldn't let go. Not now_. And then I reached the top. I clutched the edge of the wall with both my hands, then pushed with all the strength still left in my arms while jumping with my feet, barely being able to haul myself over the edge to the still slightly warm stone flat. That's when I lost my consciousness from pure exhaustion.

**-LINE BREAK-**

I woke up as the sky above me started to brighten. First, there was the moment of pure confusion. I mean, what would _you_ think if you woke up in the early morning and found yourself a hundred yards above the ground, lying on a yard-wide stone flat? I can just say that you _don't _want to experience it yourself. Then the events of the previous night hit my mind, and I just lied there, taken aback by the fact that I was still alive. I had just survived a night in the Maze. But I didn't even feel proud about it. All I could actually feel at the moment was relief and the ache in my muscles. I had never even thought it was possible for my muscles to hurt like that. I doubted I could ever move again, and that's when the thought that I would have to climb down the wall hit me. _No way_, I thought. _There's no way I can do that... _But I knew all too well that I really _had _to do it.

I slowly sat up, trying not to look down, and carefully stretched my muscles. A glance at my watch told me the Doors would open in an hour. I thought of all the Gladers, especially Newt, knowing that they still believed I was dead. The feeling like I was punched hard in the stomach came again, and I tried to think about something else. _Anything else. _I would just climb down this stupid wall and make it back to them. Make it back to Newt.

I took a careful glance over the same edge of the wall I thought I'd climbed up, and a shudder went down my back. How on earth had I been able to climb up here last night? I turned my look quickly back to the stone flat I was sitting on, thinking about my options. I considered just climbing down the wall the same way I'd climbed up as a bad idea. Surviving a night in the Maze just to die by falling off the wall would be pretty damn sucky. Then an idea hit me.

Peeking over the edge again, I spotted a long, loosely hanging vine that grew from the stone wall just a foot under the verge. Careful not to reel over the edge, I snatched the vine to my hands and started winding it up. Soon I had the almost fifty yards long vine on the stone flat next to me, it's other end still firmly attached to the wall. I begun to work, tying the loose end of the creeper securely around my middle, checking one more time that the other end wouldn't pull away from the wall. With a deep breath, I slipped my legs over the verge while holding onto the edge with both hands. Then I started the long climb down, but now I had the creeper serving as a safety rope in case I lost my grip.

When I was almost halfway down, my safety vine stopped my descend as it came to it's end. I found another creeper, this one going all the way to the Maze floor, and tied it around myself. Then I cut off the old vine, continuing my way down. It was much easier than the night's climb up, probably because of the hours of rest I'd gotten, plus the fact that hauling yourself up just happened to be more exhausting than climbing down. But that didn't mean it was easy. My muscles felt like they'd been deep frozen, then warmed up in a microwave. Even worse than that was the thirst. The last time I'd had water to drink had been yesterday,_ before _the run from the grievers and the one hundred yard climb up the freaking Maze wall. My mouth was dry, my head ached just like every other part of my body, and I felt slightly dizzy all along.

When I finally reached the ground and managed to cut off the vine still tying me to the wall, I just slumped to the floor, leaning my back against the wall. I felt like blacking out again, but I fought to stay conscious. I had to get to the Glade. The thought that all I had to do anymore was to find my way there, not having to worry about the Grievers, gave me strength. I would see Newt again. After all I'd been through, _I would actually see him again._

I managed to stand up, trying to picture the layout of the maze in my aching head. I figured it wasn't more than a few miles from here to the North Door. But walking even a few miles without collapsing to the ground felt like an impossible task at the moment.

_Well, surviving a night in the Maze should've been impossible, too. And I just did that._

And so I started my way toward the Glade, hoping I wasn't going to the wrong direction.

I walked like a zombie, feeling like every slouching step I took could be my last. I tried to grasp to the picture of the Maze's ground plan in my head, keep my sense of direction straight, even though my field of vision was spinning more by the second. I couldn't get lost now. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay conscious for much longer, and I sure didn't have the strength to walk a single extra yard.

Halfway to the Glade, I heard the sound of the Doors opening. I tried to speed up my pace, wishing I would just reach the North Door already. I just wanted to stop fighting the urge to lose my consciousness, collapse to the ground and sleep for a few days. Maybe a week. I almost tripped over my own two feet, reeled, but managed to lean onto the wall for support before faceplanting the ground. _Okay, concentrate, _I thought, _Just one more mile._

Yard after yard, turn after turn, I approached the Glade. It proved to be that walking a single mile took me almost a whole hour. _A freaking whole hour. _But nonetheless, I was almost there, now. After one more turn, I was standing in the other end of the long corridor that ended in the vast opening of the North Door. A flood of emotions hit my fuzzy mind as I stared at the small part of the Glade I could make out through the gap in the stone wall; an oppressive feel of relief mixed with amazement for still being alive.

I just wanted to run to the Door, to the Glade, find Newt. I wanted it so bad my chest hurt. I hated the thought of slowly walking there, but I knew that was the best I could do in my current state. When I was only ten yards or so from the Door, a Glader walked past it, going to the direction of the Gardens, carrying a shovel. I couldn't make a sound to make him notice me, my throat simply too dry and raw, but the boy happened to glance into the corridor anyway, his eyes widening as he saw me.

I couldn't even recall the boy's name, but at the moment, I couldn't have been happier to see him. The boy, in turn, stared at me like I were a ghost. Then, when he finally managed to break out of his daze, he turned on his heels and started yelling on the top of his lungs: "Jessie! It's Jessie! She's here! She's alive!"

I made it to the opening as Gladers started milling around the Door, coming from every corner of the Glade. They all looked at me like I weren't from this planet, their expressions showing a mix of incredulousness and awe. I spotted Dan among the others, seemingly fine. And then I finally saw Newt. He was running from the direction of the Homestead, faster than anyone else. He pushed his way through the crowd of Gladers, reaching the Door and wrapping his arms around me. I closed my eyes, leaning against him, not having the strength to move another inch.

I had made it. I had survived a night in the Maze. But I felt no pride. That was the last thing I could've thought of at the moment. All I could feel was relief and exhaustion. After all I'd been through, I was safe. I was with Newt. And that was all that mattered.

I felt my consciousness drift away, like the power of a black hole was pulling it out of my grip, trying to suck it into the depths of it's darkness. This time, I didn't fight it. I let the darkness swallow the last rips of my consciousness, finally giving in to it, knowing that I was safe in Newt's arms, knowing that all was fine for now.

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><p><strong>This was my first one shot, hope you liked! And feel free to leave me a review ;)<strong>


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